Post by asburygrad on Sept 3, 2008 22:22:40 GMT -5
Warship Laughter in Manslaughter
Unknown Star System
August 25, 3172
Dale Capron walked with his head down, unable to look into the eyes of the technicians and warship personnel that he passed in the hallway. He felt the sting of dishonor – of abandoning his Clan in their moment of greatest need. For this dishonor, he expected great punishment.
Approaching the door, Capron lifted his right arm to thumb the communication stud. Before he reached it, though, the door slid open on its own. The Loremaster of Clan Mutant Sea Bass gulped once, then stepped through the frame.
IlKhan Kirk McCauley sat in the center of his audience chamber, flanked by the Clan’s craftiest warrior, SaKhan Travis Schults. The ilKhan wore an expression of amusement – not the anger that Capron was expecting to face. Schults actually seemed to be stifling a grin.
“Loremaster Capron,” McCauley intoned, trying to bring the mode back towards seriousness.
“Aff, mighty ilKhan?” Capron answered.
“I was disappointed by your exclusion from our invasion fleet two weeks ago. I had thought that I had made myself clear: the capture of the planet Indianapolis was to be the greatest victory for our Clan, the pinnacle of our achievements and the high note of our Clan’s Remembrance!”
“Aff, ilKhan,” Capron sulked. Schults’ grin broadened.
“As we all know, peace is coming upon the Inner Sphere. Peace, Loremaster, of all the accursed teachings of the Not-Named Clan, peace is breaking out! We will have no more great battles! No more chances to prove our honor and our martial prowess! No more opportunity to assemble our mighty battlefleets and bring war, terror, and carnage upon a cowering Inner Sphere populace!”
“Not to mention the loot . . . “ SaKhan Schults whispered.
IlKhan McCauley ignored him. “And your only excuse for yourself, Loremaster Capron, is that you were overseeing our breeding protocols?? You expect me to believe that this required the personal attention of a Bloodnamed and storied warrior such as yourself?”
The Loremaster cleared his throat. “Well, mighty ilKhan, there has been a lack of new blood in our warrior ranks of late. And I figured . . . well, uh, I assumed, sir . . . that we would need to attend to this urgent matter with haste! And so, uh, yes . . . I mean aff! . . . I did excuse myself from the Indianapolis invasion fleet to . . . uh . . . ‘personally’ oversee the program. Sir.”
The SaKhan laughed out loud, while shaking his hips. This made the feather protruding from his fedora sway. “Bow-chicka-bow-bow . . .”
“THAT IS ENOUGH from you, Schults!” the ilKhan shouted. He turned again to Capron. “Although you have attended to a very important matter for the future of our great Clan, and your oversight of that matter may indeed have been necessary, you have still failed us. By failing us, you have failed our entire Clan.
“Without your assistance, saKhan Schults was unable to breach the Republic’s capital city on this pitiful world. He was forced to settle for disembarking his captured Ares Mechs, and using them to wreck havoc upon the world’s economy in a running side battle.
“My own forces breached the city walls, and nearly made it all the way to the seat of
planetary government.” For the first time since the audience began, ilKhan McCauley cast his own glance at the floor. “However, my personal honor guard ran headlong into a Republic Malice assault Mech, and we were unable to progress further. My own Griffin is still being repaired, as we speak.”
Capron’s jaw dropped at this revelation. He knew that the invasion force was repelled. He had no idea how close the Mutant Sea Bass khan had come to personal injury, or even death!
McCauley raised his gaze up from the floor. Steely resolve replaced his obvious disappointment. “But all of that is the past. It cannot be undone, once concluded. We were still able to prove our martial stability, and give our enemies across the Inner Sphere reason to fear the Sea Bass.
“But now, Dale, I have a special mission for you. An opportunity to reclaim your lost honor and redeem yourself in the eyes of your fellow warriors.” The Loremaster noted the change to his first name.
“There is another planet, one considerably less valuable than Indianapolis but still rich in mineral resources. We have noted the arrival of many other factions on this world, and are now interested in sending a Mutant Sea Bass force to project our power onto that world as well. This planet is known as Atlanta.”
A holovid display appeared behind the ilKhan’s head, designating their current location and the objective of Atlanta. Loremaster Capron could see that it was not far off at all.
“Our Watch agents in the area have reported that the same Malice BattleMech which defeated my forces on Indianapolis has now appeared on Atlanta, leading the Republic assault there. In addition, a powerful contingent of Bannson’s Raiders forces have arrived under the leadership of a certain Jack Farrell, who pilots an Atlas assault Mech.”
A smile spread across McCauley’s features. “You will go to Atlanta within the week, Loremaster. You will take a sizable Sea Bass force with you. And you will defeat the Republic, Bannson’s Raiders, and any other factions which stand in your way. Return here, to the Laughter in Manslaughter, with the head of that Malice pilot as proof of our superiority! SEYLA!”
Unknown Star System
August 25, 3172
Dale Capron walked with his head down, unable to look into the eyes of the technicians and warship personnel that he passed in the hallway. He felt the sting of dishonor – of abandoning his Clan in their moment of greatest need. For this dishonor, he expected great punishment.
Approaching the door, Capron lifted his right arm to thumb the communication stud. Before he reached it, though, the door slid open on its own. The Loremaster of Clan Mutant Sea Bass gulped once, then stepped through the frame.
IlKhan Kirk McCauley sat in the center of his audience chamber, flanked by the Clan’s craftiest warrior, SaKhan Travis Schults. The ilKhan wore an expression of amusement – not the anger that Capron was expecting to face. Schults actually seemed to be stifling a grin.
“Loremaster Capron,” McCauley intoned, trying to bring the mode back towards seriousness.
“Aff, mighty ilKhan?” Capron answered.
“I was disappointed by your exclusion from our invasion fleet two weeks ago. I had thought that I had made myself clear: the capture of the planet Indianapolis was to be the greatest victory for our Clan, the pinnacle of our achievements and the high note of our Clan’s Remembrance!”
“Aff, ilKhan,” Capron sulked. Schults’ grin broadened.
“As we all know, peace is coming upon the Inner Sphere. Peace, Loremaster, of all the accursed teachings of the Not-Named Clan, peace is breaking out! We will have no more great battles! No more chances to prove our honor and our martial prowess! No more opportunity to assemble our mighty battlefleets and bring war, terror, and carnage upon a cowering Inner Sphere populace!”
“Not to mention the loot . . . “ SaKhan Schults whispered.
IlKhan McCauley ignored him. “And your only excuse for yourself, Loremaster Capron, is that you were overseeing our breeding protocols?? You expect me to believe that this required the personal attention of a Bloodnamed and storied warrior such as yourself?”
The Loremaster cleared his throat. “Well, mighty ilKhan, there has been a lack of new blood in our warrior ranks of late. And I figured . . . well, uh, I assumed, sir . . . that we would need to attend to this urgent matter with haste! And so, uh, yes . . . I mean aff! . . . I did excuse myself from the Indianapolis invasion fleet to . . . uh . . . ‘personally’ oversee the program. Sir.”
The SaKhan laughed out loud, while shaking his hips. This made the feather protruding from his fedora sway. “Bow-chicka-bow-bow . . .”
“THAT IS ENOUGH from you, Schults!” the ilKhan shouted. He turned again to Capron. “Although you have attended to a very important matter for the future of our great Clan, and your oversight of that matter may indeed have been necessary, you have still failed us. By failing us, you have failed our entire Clan.
“Without your assistance, saKhan Schults was unable to breach the Republic’s capital city on this pitiful world. He was forced to settle for disembarking his captured Ares Mechs, and using them to wreck havoc upon the world’s economy in a running side battle.
“My own forces breached the city walls, and nearly made it all the way to the seat of
planetary government.” For the first time since the audience began, ilKhan McCauley cast his own glance at the floor. “However, my personal honor guard ran headlong into a Republic Malice assault Mech, and we were unable to progress further. My own Griffin is still being repaired, as we speak.”
Capron’s jaw dropped at this revelation. He knew that the invasion force was repelled. He had no idea how close the Mutant Sea Bass khan had come to personal injury, or even death!
McCauley raised his gaze up from the floor. Steely resolve replaced his obvious disappointment. “But all of that is the past. It cannot be undone, once concluded. We were still able to prove our martial stability, and give our enemies across the Inner Sphere reason to fear the Sea Bass.
“But now, Dale, I have a special mission for you. An opportunity to reclaim your lost honor and redeem yourself in the eyes of your fellow warriors.” The Loremaster noted the change to his first name.
“There is another planet, one considerably less valuable than Indianapolis but still rich in mineral resources. We have noted the arrival of many other factions on this world, and are now interested in sending a Mutant Sea Bass force to project our power onto that world as well. This planet is known as Atlanta.”
A holovid display appeared behind the ilKhan’s head, designating their current location and the objective of Atlanta. Loremaster Capron could see that it was not far off at all.
“Our Watch agents in the area have reported that the same Malice BattleMech which defeated my forces on Indianapolis has now appeared on Atlanta, leading the Republic assault there. In addition, a powerful contingent of Bannson’s Raiders forces have arrived under the leadership of a certain Jack Farrell, who pilots an Atlas assault Mech.”
A smile spread across McCauley’s features. “You will go to Atlanta within the week, Loremaster. You will take a sizable Sea Bass force with you. And you will defeat the Republic, Bannson’s Raiders, and any other factions which stand in your way. Return here, to the Laughter in Manslaughter, with the head of that Malice pilot as proof of our superiority! SEYLA!”